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I hate days like today - those days when I just feel crappy on the inside and I want to talk about, or worse, people see it on my face and ask about it. What I hate even more is that one of the biggest lessons I have learned in life is to not talk about your feelings, because 99.99% of the time, it's not worth it.
This is a crap dilemma to be in, too, because supposedly talking about things is supposed to make you feel better. Maybe that is true in the abstract, but in my case I find it difficult to find someone to talk to that actually doesn't make me feel worse.
The problem is a lot of people don't get it. People who have never lived with body chemistry that's an ass hole just don't get how it feels. And they don't even try to understand. They just don't grasp how some days, for no reason at all, or few a bunch of stupid reasons, I just am in a bad place emotionally. Sometimes just sending an email, having to deal with too many people, or even just running late can just tear me apart inside. And then suddenly the panic takes over, and my breathing is restricted, my heart pounds, I impulsively move my hands, and murmur stuff like "I hate my life" and "kill me now" all w/o really wanting or meaning to. The panic just takes over and my body just does it.
It's not like I can't control it eventually. Most of the attacks I have (which can be as often as a few times a week) are pretty small. I know to take deep breaths, and I try to listen to music to center me. I am also really (almost scarily so) at holding it all in when other people come around because I don't want them to know.
And I hate that. I hate that when I am having a terrible time, and I need some relief, that it inevitably gets worse because I have to deal with other people. Here's me: I get like this sometimes, and it sucks, and yeah maybe I dwell on things that happened in the past, or I worry too much. But it's not like I want to do this. I know objectively and rationally that the negativity I feel does not reflect the truth of me. I know that I am being over taken by panic. But what I don't need is the judgement. What I need is for someone, finally, to just @#%$ing listen.
Because the problem is, it never ends. I have been like this for as long as I can remember, and as it's the way I was born, to some extent this will be my life forever. And I have had to learn the hard way that I have to hold a lot of it in because many people, many of them people I care about a lot, just don't get and can't. I do have some people that I can open up to, but it's never really been all the way because I learn bit by bit that most people can't be trusted to get it. Even now, with some friends I am becoming better pals with, I am building up walls around parts of me because they've shown they can be trusted to give me the support and the understanding that I need.
It sucks so bad. I am literally sitting here thinking of friends that I have had in the past that got it, but that aren't close to me anymore. I have a friend, when we were in high school, was so understanding of when I felt like this (even when I didn't understand it then as I do now). She always knew how to be supportive and make me feel that someone cared. I had a best friend in college, whom I had a big falling out with like 7 years ago. I just think I've finally mourned the loss of that relationship, because no matter how badly it ended or how difficult she could be, I could always feel safe opening up to her.
I just wish sometimes that people really knew how hard it is, and hard it's been. If people really knew, really understood, I'd hope they'd see just how much of a trooper I am really am. I handle this way better than I ever had before. I went through the terrible phase, then I went through the seclusion/get it together phase, and I think now I am on the second phase of just figuring out how to do the day to day with what I know about me and what I have to carry with me. And I just wish people knew that. And I wish they knew that sometimes it gets too tough, and it takes so much to just get over it, alone and in the right way.
And maybe part of that is my fault, because I can't put it on the line and open up at the risk of everything falling apart. But I think I am ready, at least for myself, to start putting parts of the past into words. That way, I can keep it to know where I've been, but stop carrying it around. Although, it would be lighter if I could get some help carrying the burden.
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